On the mountain peak,
the place of the unkown birds and the hot snow.
There lies a filthy soul.
A lost soul.
A lonely one.
Near the banks of the river,
the one they called holy and yet let everything down,
sits quitely a refused soul.
A lonely soul.
It's then when he calls it:
The waves wahsed away the castles.
His dreams were "Sand Dreams".
For days he waited for a shoulder,
a shoulder to support his burnt head.
The head which had eyes,
that saw the confusions galore.
The head that had ears,
which heard the foul men speak.
that symbolized loneliness.
Doors remained shut,
and windows sealed.
There wasn't an answer to ,
the solemn pleas.
the psychedelic mind works like a pendulum;
Swerves into the deep interiors
and comes out again.
He is a horologist's dream.
His thoughts enter his shallow heart,
to bounce back again.
It's a devil's dream.
He must find a friend,
a soul to relax with.
The rocking chair relaxes in the outdoor sun.
He finds a shadow that bleeds,
the one that has been roaming for a companion too.
He finds himself.